Play Me (romance, bbw romance, romance books)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Play me
Table of Contents
BONUS: Free Gift Just for You
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
BONUS REMAINDER
•
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Chapter 1
Mabel
I stared at my phone screen for a few minutes; the text message from my mom wasn’t going anywhere. I couldn’t just magically make it disappear. In fact, the longer I stared at it, the clearer it became.
I can’t wait to see you, honey, and bring your boyfriend this time. No excuses.
I read it again, just for good measure. Nope. Still said the same thing. I’d made him up a couple of years ago—two years to be precise—and I found that having an imaginary boyfriend got me out of a lot of scrapes. For instance, the time my mom insisted that I attend my step father’s dad’s funeral. I sent her a quick text to tell her that my boyfriend broke his leg playing football and that I had to stay home and take care of him. I know that sounds insensitive, and I should have been there to pay my respects. But, the man was ninety-six years old, and funerals always made me laugh uncontrollably, no matter how sad I was feeling.
Over the past two years, I used the boyfriend excuse over and over again with my family. So much so that they assumed that things were going really well, that I had finally settled down and found myself a caring, kind man who I was very much in love with.
The truth, however, was that I was still living by myself in a studio apartment in Brooklyn, watering my plants before going to bed, piling up my laundry to the point of running out of clothes and I hadn’t had a second date in three years. Not to mention that I was still working fifty hours a week as Chloe Lopez’ assistant at her fashion magazine, and had close to no social life other than checking my social media feed over a bowl of popcorn and a third glass of wine.
So yeah, when my mom sent me that message, my head was in a tizzy. Not a big deal, I figured. I’d just make up another excuse about why he couldn’t make it. It’s only their anniversary. I hadn’t brought him home for Christmas last year, so surely they wouldn’t make a big deal out of an anniversary.
I was half dressed, and so I walked over to the mirror in my bedroom, and fit my cell phone between my ear and shoulder. The phone was ringing, and my mom answered promptly.
“Hi, honey, did you get my message?” were her first words.
“Of course I got your message, mom. I’m calling you now because I got your message,” I said indulgently, while I slid a pair of high waisted black pants up my legs.
“That’s right. Anyway, so you’re going to bring the boyfriend?” she asked excitedly, and I bit down on my lip. I had to fine tune my voice so that she wouldn’t detect I was lying.
“I really want to, mom, but he has a meeting in Florida that he absolutely has to attend. He wishes he could come, though,” I said, squinting at the same time.
“It’s been two years, and none of us have met him, Mabel,” mom said, and I sighed.
“I know, I know, mom. It sucks. I’m hoping he can make it for Christmas this year, but you know how I explained that his family is really traditional and they want him there for family holidays,” I said, while I tucked in a floral silk blouse into my pants.
“Well, then he’ll just have to cancel his meeting in Florida,” I heard her say. I gulped and straightened myself, gripping the phone tighter in my hand.
“No, mom, you don’t understand. He can’t skip this meeting,” I said, and I realized that my voice was beginning to sound a little screechy.
“No, you don’t understand, honey. I want to meet him. You’ve been with him for so long, but you refuse to let us see him. I’m starting to think that there’s something wrong with him. Or you’re just embarrassed of us,” she said, and I rolled my eyes. This could not be happening! At eight in the morning on a Sunday.
“Mom, I’m going to try, but I don’t think he’ll be able to get away. And also, there’s nothing wrong with him, and I’m not embarrassed of my family,” I said with a huff.
“Then bring him. Let us judge him for ourselves. It’ll be fun. It’s only a small family affair. Your sisters are bringing the whole family, so he’ll get to spend some time with your nieces and nephews too,” she said, and I remained silent. My brain was already working on overdrive. If there were ever the opportunity to say it, now would be the time. I could get away with just telling her that we’d broken up. Or admitting that the whole thing was a lie. Maybe he died? My mind was racing with ridiculous ideas, while my mom continued to talk.
“So, you’re bringing him?” she said, and those words snapped me out of my thoughts.
“I’m going to try. He’s going to try. We’re going to try,” I said stupidly, and I could hear mom smiling through the phone. There was a change in her voice, and she sounded delighted.
“That’s great, honey. We’ve been so worried about you lately. We hadn’t heard much about him lately, and we were hoping you two hadn’t broken up,” she said, and I bit down on my lip.
“Gotta go, mom,” I said, beginning to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Oh, honey, wait. What is his name? You’ve told us so little about him,” she said, but I ignored her.
“Gotta go now, bye. I’ll see you on Saturday,” I said and cut the call.
My shoulders were heaving by the time I flung the phone on my bed and turned to look at myself in the mirror. I shook my head absent-mindedly, thinking over and over again that I was now totally screwed.
Chapter 2
Damien
I was out of breath, with a thin film of sweat on my forehead, but I kept running. I could feel the t-shirt sticking to my back, my sneakers creaking on the treadmill belt. I never listened to music in the gym. Nine at night was usually too late for people to come to the gym, but I liked it exactly for that reason.
Other than the girl with the bronze ponytail, there weren’t any other regulars who came to the gym at this time of the night. When I looked up, through the reflection in the mirror, I saw her entering the floor through the back door.
Just like every day, for the past two months that I’d been using the gym, this evening too, she had her bronze hair tied tightly upon her head. I figured she worked a late job and was just one of those kinds of people who worked all the time. I imagined her in a power suit, sitting behind a large oak desk, barking out orders. The fact that I had never seen her smiling added to that daydream.
She was i
n all-black, as usual, and carried a bottle of water with her. She was small and petite and took long strides when she walked, as though to make up for her lack of height. Her hair swung behind her, and her green eyes darted around the room. She was looking for a treadmill farthest away from me; she always did.
When she started running behind me, facing in the other direction, I looked away. In the first few weeks that I started coming to this gym, I tried to make up my mind if it would be a good idea to talk to her. As the days carried on, I figured there was no point. She never smiled, or laughed, or looked in any other direction other than straight ahead. Clear signals that she didn’t want to be disturbed.
Besides, didn’t I have enough girls to worry about in my life? Adding another one to the mix would only result in more juggling, and I only had so many hands.
I cleared my throat involuntarily, and our eyes met through the reflection in the mirrors. Like me, she didn’t listen to music either, and my voice must have distracted her. This was probably the third time in two months that we had any eye contact. And I couldn’t help but smile.
She had a pouty pink mouth with luscious lips. Her cheeks colored immediately to match the color of her lips, and she quickly looked away. Had I done something to offend her? Worse still, did I know her from somewhere and just didn’t recognize her. It had happened to me before. I’d flirted with a girl at a bar who I’d slept with before, but didn’t recognize. I ended up with a slap on my cheek but some really hot sex with her afterward.
But the look that this girl gave me was more like she was disgusted with me. I crossed my brows and continued to run.
I looked up again in a few minutes. It felt like that barrier was broken somehow—now that our eyes had met again. She wasn’t looking at me, but it appeared as though she was trying hard not to. I could tell that she had been stealing glances at me when I wasn’t looking and now she was embarrassed and wondering if I’d caught her staring.
What was her deal? I pressed the button on my treadmill and watched as she picked up speed on hers. Stepping off the treadmill, I used the towel I’d carried with me to pat the back of my neck and forehead. To the trained eye, I would have appeared to be trying to delay leaving.
This time when I looked at her, I glanced briefly at the shape of her butt and her bare back. What the Hell.
“I’d ask you if you came here often, but I already know that you do,” I said aloud, probably louder than I should have.
She looked up at me through the mirror, and her cheeks colored again. As though I’d asked her to strip. She remained in shock for a few seconds longer, before she gulped and licked her lips.
“So, what are you asking then?” she said and her voice came as somewhat as a surprise to me. It was strange that I’d seen her almost every day for the past two months, but this was the first time I was hearing her speak. It was a sweet voice but had a certain zing to it that surprised me. I’d expected her voice to be mellow and soft, almost shy.
I shrugged my shoulders and walked towards her. Even from a distance, I could tell that her muscles stiffened up pretty quickly. I had no idea why she was so aggressively against the idea of me talking to her.
“Nothing in particular. Just making conversation, I suppose,” I said and leaned on the empty treadmill beside her. She wasn’t looking at me directly anymore, just jogging and staring ahead. She appeared to be turning the words over in her head silently. She was thinking of something alright.
“Okay, let’s make conversation then. What do you do?” she asked me, and again she hadn’t failed to surprise me. Way to jump past the polite frivolities of a conversation!
“I’m a graphic designer,” I said with a smile on my face. The same smile was lacking from hers.
“Good. A designer. So, you have loads of free time,” she said and turned to me with narrowed green eyes. To say that I was confused would be an understatement, but before I could say another word, she had started talking again.
“How would you like an all-expense paid weekend trip to Napa Valley?” she said and my brows crossed in surprise. I should have stayed away from her like I’d decided to, because this girl was clearly out of her mind.
Chapter 3
Mabel
I wasn’t sure what sudden Herculean strength made me say the words, and I regretted it almost the same second that I said them. I didn’t know him; I didn’t even know his name. All I knew about him was that he came to the same gym as mine, at the same time I did, for the past two months. And I hadn’t said a word to him before.
You couldn’t not notice this guy, to be fair. He looked like he’d done some professional modeling at some point in his life. He had to have. Under his sweaty shirt, his torso looked chiseled and muscular, without being too buffed up. His eyes were a piercing blue and his cheek bones, like his chin, were sharp and angular. His hair was the color of sand and was shaggy without looking unkempt. And he always had the hint of a smile on his face.
Now, however, his brows were crossed, and his lips were set in a firm line. He was in shock.
“Excuse me?” he said, and I didn’t blame him.
I could have told him I was only joking or that he’d misunderstood me but foolishly I remained quiet and continued to walk on the treadmill at a slow pace.
“Did you just ask me if I want to go to Napa Valley?” he said, coming closer to me with wide eyes. I gulped and turned away from him.
“Hey!” he called out and waved his hand in front of my face.
“Yes, yes, I did,” I blurted out, my heart racing in my chest. What had I done? This wasn’t the way to get a date for my family visit! I was desperate, alright, but not this desperate, surely!
“Why?” he asked, and I pressed the button on the treadmill to shut it off. When it did, I turned to him, still standing on the rubber belt and with my hands on my hips.
“I don’t know; I probably shouldn’t have,” I admitted, and that smile on his face reappeared. He was finding this funny!
“Do you always ask people ridiculous questions when they come and speak to you?” he said and a laugh escaped his lips. When he saw that I wasn’t laughing with him, he arched his eyebrows.
“So, that was a serious question?” he said, and I took in a sharp, deep breath.
“I’m in a bit of a pickle,” I said, and he broke into a laugh again.
“A pickle? Who says that?” he was still laughing. He must have seen me blushing, because he stopped laughing finally and cleared his throat.
“Okay, what is the nature of your pickle?” he said, and I noticed for the first time, because of the proximity of our bodies … how broad his chest was.
“My parents think I have a boyfriend,” I blurted out, coloring deeply as I said the words. I didn’t know this guy. He could be anybody. He could be married with three kids for all I knew.
“And you don’t … actually have a boyfriend?” he said, catching my eye. His eyes were dreamy, like a clear blue sky on a sunny day. I had to do all I could to stop myself from staring at them. I couldn’t possibly make this situation any more awkward anyway.
“No, I don’t have time for a boyfriend,” I said.
“Figures,” he mumbled, and I looked up at him sharply. “So, what’s with Napa Valley?” he continued, and I took in another breath.
“My mom and her husband live there, and it’s their fifteenth anniversary. It’s a family event, and all my sisters and their family members are coming down for it,” I continued, and he nodded his head lightly.
“I see, and they expect you to bring your boyfriend?” he said it for me, and I nodded my head.
“My longtime boyfriend of two years, who I’ve managed to keep away from them for a very long time. My mom’s not backing down now. I either produce him somehow or tell them the truth,” I said and noticed that he was staring at me like he couldn’t believe what I was saying.
“Why don’t you just tell them the truth? They’re family. Won’t they understand and fo
rgive you?” he said in a quiet voice. At least he wasn’t laughing or running away scared.
“Because it’s two years’ worth of lies, and family events that I’ve got out of and lies I’ve made up about vacations and promotions and football injuries,” I replied, and he remained silent, only staring at me with wild eyes.
“I’m going to tell them we broke up, after this. In a couple of weeks. But I can’t say it now, right after they invited him,” I told him and realized that we had been standing like this for several minutes. He was nodding his head, which was somewhat of a relief, but he could be thinking anything really. I was certain that he was trying to come up with the most polite words he could find to turn me down.
“I see,” he said finally, and I shrugged.
“I’m sorry for springing this on you; I completely understand if you think this is crazy and that you don’t know me …” the words came tumbling out of me and he shook his head.
“No, I’m not doing anything this weekend, and I’ve never been to Napa Valley before,” he said, and that smile had returned on his face. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. That didn’t take a lot of convincing! What was wrong with this guy? I felt like my chest was contracting and my breath was catching in my throat. I hadn’t expected this to work.